Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.
The first person to come to the United States from my family was my elder sister Jacqueline, who was hired by the United Nations as a secretary. It was in 1953. I was not even 15, and it made me dream of America, which I had discovered through movies, like How to Marry a Millionaire, with the beautiful skyline of New York City and Marylin Monroe.
My mother pined for the Adriatic Sea. Everything in that sea was so much better than the sea off the coast of Tel Aviv.
Going back to my childhood in Germany, my mother always had a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on our dinner table. Fruit was just one thing that was always available, so no big deal. But things changed drastically when I fled with my parents to the United States at age 13.
As we got closer to America, the sea became smooth and life returned to normal. The SS Nieuw Amsterdam finally entered New York Harbor on the evening of November 8, 1948.
On November 21, 2009, I gave a speech as I was being inducted into the Sports Hall of Fame at the Jewish Community Center of Greater Washington (JCCGW). The event was a dinner and fundraiser for children with special needs, a cause very dear to me since my son Dov has Down syndrome and has needed much help from organizations such as this one.
Long, long ago, it was sensational to receive a letter. We used to wait for the mailman impatiently. A letter could change plans, change lives, and fates.
Fire is wonderful, warms up your home, Fire is terrible, destruction, war. What do I remember about fire? My grandmother’s home, the stove with tile. I came in from the winter, very cold, but I put my back against that warm stove.
The name of the street was Rottenbiller in Budapest, Hungary. It was named after a mayor of Budapest who served in the 19th century. We got an apartment there after our original flat was bombed out. I was about three years old. My mother, my grandmother, my uncle Herman with his wife and later two daughters, my uncle Sanyi, and I all lived there. I mostly remember certain pictures in my mind.
When Sidney and I married in 1965, we decided that if we would have children, we would like to bring them up within the Jewish traditions and religion. We were married in the Liberal Synagogue of Amsterdam.
When we returned to Holland in 1948 after living in Sweden for two years, we realized that food and goods were still rationed in the Netherlands. You could not just buy the amount you needed or wanted if you did not have the right ration coupons or enough of them.
Listen to or read Holocaust survivors’ experiences, told in their own words through oral histories, written testimony, and public programs.
